The lies we're being told
by heavenindaylight
Summary: Donna and Harvey's holiday weekend in Cortland takes an unexpected turn, which makes Donna question her life as she knows it.
1. Spitting Image

**The lies we're being told**

_A/N: This is my first story ever. I'm really stepping out of my comfort zone publishing this, but I hope you enjoy it! Big thanks to Kerry (twitter: spicysuits, FF: spicysuits) and Blue (twitter: ashadesofblue , FF: AlternateShadesofBlue) for beta-reading, giving me feedback and encouraging me with such kind words in this process. Please leave a review, it's greatly appreciated!_

_K_

Part one – Spitting image

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_Secrets have a way of making themselves felt, even before you know there's a secret. _

_\- Jean Ferris_

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Things had gone better this weekend than he'd expected. At least so far. It wasn't that long ago he and Jim had finally been on good terms, so to say he was a tiny bit nervous spending three days at Donna's parents' celebrating Christmas, would not be a lie. But here they were, the four of them, sitting around the dinner table at Clara and Jim's house in Cortland. And tonight's atmosphere was, to Harvey's surprise, rather pleasant.

They'd covered the subjects of Seattle, their new jobs, the house they moved into a couple of weeks ago, their impromptu wedding and how things were back in NYC. He and Donna had chosen to take two weeks off from work over the holidays to catch up with their friends and explore the city they so dearly loved. They never really had a chance to do so before, back when they lived and breathed the firm. So when the opportunity presented itself, they jumped at it, hoping they could reacquaint themselves with the city they both still _secretly_ considered home. Sacrificing three days in Cortland so Donna could spend some time with her family was a compromise Harvey was willing to make, all to please his wife. _His wife._

"It's so nice that you girls are still in touch after all these years" Donna said, bringing Harvey's consciousness back to the physical world. Her words were directed at her mother. "And it must've been fun to see where all your other classmates have ended up as well. 50 years… Huh, that's something!"

Clara nodded; a slight pink flush colored her cheeks at Donna's statement.

"Well yeah, it is. Reunions are fun in many ways, but also a cruel reminder I'm getting painstakingly old," Clara laughed, raising her glass of wine as if she was toasting something worth celebrating.

"Clara, stop it, you're just as beautiful now as you were when I met you," Jim said, giving his wife a loving glance.

Things suddenly got a bit too sugary sweet for Harvey's liking, so he decided to break the spell between the older couple, in the gentlest way he could muster.

"So... do you have any pictures from back then?" Harvey chipped in, trying to be a part of the conversation while trying to appear more interested in the topic than he honestly cared to be.

Donna gave him a glance, not convinced he was interested one bit, but thankful for his efforts.

"Well, yes, Harvey. As a matter of fact, I do. If I'm not mistaken, I have a yearbook hiding somewhere on one of our shelves in the living room. Why don't we move this party over there and I'll see if I can find it. Shall we?" Clara said, a shy excitement filling her voice.

They cleared the dining table, bringing their beverage of choice into the adjacent room.

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Harvey had settled in one of the dark leather lounge chairs, glass of scotch placed on the table beside him. Jim was tending the fireplace, as the cold was definitely settling into the walls of the Paulsen's residence. Harvey had forgotten to bring warm socks, so Jim had kindly offered to lend him some woolen slippers. They were far from anything fancy, but they did a good enough job at warming his cold feet, and honestly Harvey appreciated the kind gesture.

Clara rummaged through the large walnut bookcase of the cozy living room, and from the bottom left she suddenly pulled out what looked to be an old yearbook. Bringing it over to the couch, she sat down beside Donna and started flipping through the pages.

"Ah, here we are. Cortland High School's class of '69" Clara said, pointing at a picture of a crowd of approximately twenty teenagers, perfectly lined up in three rows, smiling at the camera the best way they knew how.

They were all clad in colorful cord and tweed, clothes that were certainly on trend back in the days, Donna thought to herself. She scanned the picture looking for familiar faces. It didn't take long before she recognized younger versions of women she'd seen many times before. Barb, Fran and Patricia were all there. Her mother's friends looked just the same, only a tad less wrinkly, and their hair a lot more groomed than nowadays.

With her eyes still fixed on the image at hand, someone suddenly caught her attention. Standing in the back, on the far right was a handsome young man. She couldn't put her finger on why, but this guy seemed awfully familiar to her, like she somehow should know who he was. Running her finger over the list of names under the photo, she found him; Peter Branagh. The name didn't ring any bells, so her curiosity finally got to her.

"Who's this guy?" Donna asked, pointing at Peter.

"Who?"

"This guy, tall handsome boy in the back. Looks to kill for. What's his story?" Donna asked, a hint of teasing in her voice.

Clara got her glasses, put them on the tip of her nose and directed her eyes where Donna was pointing. As Clara finally caught up with her daughter, Donna sensed her mother suddenly freezing as her eyes landed on the boy in question. Clara paused, swallowed slowly and took her glasses off again, putting them back in the case where she found them. Donna furrowed her brows, her mother's behavior verging on weird.

"So," Donna pressed, "who is this, uhm… Peter?"

"To be honest, Donna, I don't really remember him," Clara said, not convincing Donna one bit.

"What?" Donna laughed. "How on earth can you not remember this guy? He looks like a God compared to the rest of the boys in this picture," Donna teased, her elbow tapping against her mother's side as she winked. "I bet you had the hots for him or something. I know I would've."

Clara suddenly rose from the couch, taking the yearbook out of Donnas hands, and with a harsher voice than she probably intended, she snapped; "I said I don't remember him, Donna!"

Donna couldn't understand where the sudden shift in her mother's behavior and mood came from, what made her go off at her like that, and what this Peter guy had to do with it. All she knew was that she had poked at something her mother didn't want her to, and that there was more to this story. She just couldn't understand what and why.

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Harvey gargled and spit out his toothpaste, putting his toothbrush back into his cup by the sink. He'd noticed the shift in both women's mood after dinner and the whole yearbook affair. He hadn't really paid that much attention. His eyes were mostly glued to his phone and the texts he was writing back and forth with Mike, being updated on how things were going back home in Seattle. He did, however, take notice when Donna hurriedly left the room, heading upstairs after a quick "Okay, sorry" and "I think I'll just go to bed".

Sitting in his chair, in the same room as Clara and Jim, had all of a sudden become painfully awkward. The air turned harder to breathe and tension was running high. Unspoken words lingered between the older couple while exchanging looks that didn't go unnoticed by Harvey. He didn't belong in the middle of this. Right here, right now, there was no room for Harvey Specter. Standing up from his chair, he had politely excused himself and headed upstairs as well, still wondering what on earth had just unraveled before his eyes.

Realizing he had lost himself in his own thoughts, reflection staring back at him in the mirror, he exited the bathroom. Heading towards his side of the bed, he was looking forward to a good night's sleep. Donna had already disappeared under the covers by the time he got up to their room. Now, strands of red on her pillow was the only thing visible of the woman he loved, her back towards him. Hoping she's not sending him a message, he pulled his covers aside and slid in beside her, his head resting on his pillow, eyes staring at the ceiling.

"Hey," he breathed after a while. "Are you okay?" His right hand searched for the small of her back, cowardly trying to offer her some solace.

Silence. Ear deafening silence.

She drew a breath and barely above a whisper he heard her answer him; "I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You don't seem fine."

"Just… just leave it, Harvey. Apparently, I somehow put my foot in my mouth with my mother, and I have no clue as to how or why, but yeah… I'm fine!" she huffed.

Harvey could sense a shiver in her voice, a stark contrast to the words she'd just uttered. Despite her being a great actress, he must say she did a shit job at trying to convince him. He knew she was lying. But she obviously wasn't ready to talk, so he was going to give her the space she needed but didn't know how to ask for.

"Good," he said.

"Good," she breathed out.

And they both slowly drifted off to sleep.

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He woke with a bang; something felt off. And he was right. The other side of the bed was empty, even cold. Donna must have left the bed at least an hour ago, considering. He tried to rub the tiredness out of his eyes as he glanced at his watch; 3:30am. It was still the middle of the night. He got up and headed for the bathroom, both to empty his bladder, but looking for her as well. She wasn't there so he decided to extend his search.

As he descended the stairs, he saw a dim light coming from the kitchen. He could hear her and what he thought sounded like her hands flipping through pages of a book. She was probably reading. As he got to the doorway, he paused, taking in the view. Donna was sitting at the kitchen island, a tub of Chunky Monkey in her hands, eyes fixated on the yearbook her mother had so abruptly taken away from her earlier in the evening.

It didn't slip passed him how utterly beautiful she was, even in her silly Christmas pajamas, fluffy socks, no make-up, and hair tied up in a messy bun. This was the casual Donna so few people got to see, and he felt blessed to witness it.

"How long are you going to stand there just staring at me?" Her words interrupt his train of thought. Eyes still focused on the book in front of her, he could see her slight smirk. Of course she knew he was standing there. She was Donna after all.

"If I didn't know you better you might be mistaken for a stalker or something, and I could get you arrested for that," she said, her hazel eyes winking at his brown ones.

He laughed, slowly approaching her, stopping at the opposite side of the island. He loved this casual banter between them, glad it hadn't changed even though their relationship status had taken a one-eighty this past year.

"You weren't there, and I got worried. So I decided to come looking for you," he said, his voice soft, and to Donna's annoyance, sounding too caring for her liking.

"Well, you found me, so…" she huffed, eyes falling back at the pages in front of her.

His intuition was right, something was definitely off. This wasn't like her, shutting him out like this. She might know the ins and outs of him, but he had started to get a darn good grip on reading her as well. And he just knew; she was _not _fine.

"Donna…" he said, in his voice only reserved for her.

"Harvey…" she answered, a warning seeping through her voice.

"There are only two moods that make you bring out your good ol' friend Chunky Monkey," he said, eyeing the box of ice cream in her hands. She'd already eaten halfway through it, which was impressive, even for her. "Either it's stress from work, or something is bothering you. And since we've already had a week off and work hasn't even crossed your mind while we've been away, I'm putting my money on option number two." He stared at her, daring her to tell him otherwise. He was right and he knew it, no need to bluff.

"Tell me I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure we both know I'm not," he said, softness once again coloring his voice. "And by the way, we should look into getting some kind of sponsorship with Ben & Jerry's. We're earning them a fortune with you always stocking up our friends and families' freezers with ice cream, you know… just in case," He laughed, the last three words framed by quotation marks his hands made in the air. That did it for her, eyes slowly leaving the pages in front of her, finding his dark orbs instead.

"You're not," she said with a lowered voice, simultaneously pushing the yearbook in front of him, ushering him to take a look. "Wrong, I mean. Something is bothering me," she finally admitted.

He looked at the page now laying in front of him, displaying a picture of young kids from another time. His eyes stopped at the image of a young Clara Paulsen. She was beautiful, Harvey had to admit. Not surprising as she still was a beautiful woman, but Harvey thought if he was a young boy attending Cortland High School in the late sixties, he definitely would have gone for it with one Clara Paulsen. He would never say this out loud though, ever. Not even to Donna. But he certainly thought it.

"Your mother, what about her?" he asked, confusion covering his features.

Donna gulped down another spoon of ice cream as she pointed at a tall figure standing in the back, a seemingly young and handsome man who at first glance, Harvey thought, was nothing out of the ordinary.

"This guy, Harvey," she said, her voice full of worry. "This Peter guy bothers me. And somehow, he bothers my mom as well. The more I look at him, the more I get this feeling that even though I don't like it, or frankly, I don't want to think it, that my gut feeling is right about him."

Harvey looked at her, her eyes threatening to spill. He was still just as confused, so he glanced back down at the picture, wanting to find answers to Donna's enigmatic words. And while doing so, it suddenly dawned on him. The young guy he was looking at from decades past, was truly a spitting image of the woman sitting right in front of him.


	2. Big Fat Elephant

_AN: Thank you guys so much for all the positive feedback on part one! I'm truly baffled, and all your kind words have given me such inspiration to continue and explore this thing called writing. Again, thanks to AlternateShadesofBlue and spicysuits for beta'ing, it means the world to me that you guys take time out of your days to help a this girl out! _

_Hope you enjoy part two! And if you do like it, a review or feedback on twitter is greatly appreciated 3_

_K_

Part two - Big Fat Elephant

_Fear is the dark room where the Devil develops his negatives. _

_\- Gary Busey_

.

They sat in silence for a while, knowing they were both thinking the exact same thing. But not a word was uttered. This was too grave, too big to even venture in so early on. She needed to digest, and Harvey would give her the time to do so, silence filling the room, only interrupted by the occasional consumption of a spoonful Chunky Monkey.

After what seemed like an eternity, they went back to bed, still not exchanging a word. They would talk about this later, and frankly they both knew talking wouldn't help. Donna needed answers, and Harvey wasn't the one who could give them to her.

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The following day passed as if nothing had happened, only small talk and light conversation was exchanged between the four. They had gone to the Christmas market downtown, bought a Christmas tree as tradition would have it and installed it in the living room. Donna hadn't found the time or place to bring up what was eating at her mind, not even _one_ moment alone with her mother had presented itself during the day. She had the unnerving feeling her mother was avoiding her. So, when she found Clara alone in the kitchen doing the dishes after dinner, she seized the opportunity, chancing it might come off as an ambush.

"Are we gonna talk about this big fat elephant or just keep ignoring it?" Donna asked, arms crossed in front of her and her voice slightly more harsh than she intended.

Clara paused, eyes fixed on the glass in her hands. "Talk about what?"

"Seriously, Mom? That's what you're going with?" Donna sighed, annoyed her mother was still trying to ignore the whole situation. "Were you even in the same room as me yesterday? One moment you were all giddy about this reunion thing, and the next you looked like you had swallowed a camel. All because I asked a couple of questions about a boy in your class—"

"What do you want me to say, Donna?" Claras arms flapped at her sides, closing her eyes in frustration.

"I don't know Mom… but the truth would be nice," Donna answered, her hands falling to her side.

Clara placed the glass she was holding down on the kitchen counter, resting her hands against it, head lowered in resignation. Her back was facing Donna, and Donna swore internally at her mother's cowardness, the fact that she didn't have the balls to turn around and face her.

"I think you already know the truth, Donna," Clara whispered, her voice filled with something Donna could only identify as defeat.

"Well, maybe I do, but I still think you owe me the courtesy of giving me an explanation!" Donna replied, crossing her arms in front of her again, bracing herself for what was about to come.

"What's the point, you've obviously already figured it out."

Donna couldn't believe where this conversation was going. "So you're not even going to deny it?"

"No," Clara said, shaking her head she finally turned around, drenched eyes finding Donna's rage-filled ones. "Not when there's nothing to deny." The older woman's face was now completely in anguish.

Their eyes locked, Donna trying the best she could to keep the liquid salt from spilling. The two women stood in silence for what seemed like forever, words exchanged, but never uttered. Donna broke the connection first, her eyes finding a more comforting spot on the floor.

"Wow…" she shook her head. "This is not how I was planning this..." Donna breathed, more to herself than anything else.

Clara was still looking at Donna, now with confusion in her eyes. "What do you mean? This isn't your fault, you had…"

"_Of course it's not my fault, Mom!_" She shouldn't be screaming at her mother, but she couldn't hold back. "But how do you expect me to bring _her_ into... " Donna suddenly froze, realizing her tongue had slipped information she had no plan of revealing just yet.

Clara took a step towards her, not fully understanding where Donna was going with this. "Bring who into what?" she asked.

Silence lingered between them, Donna shaking her head signaling she was _not_ going to say another word.

"Donna?" Still no reply. Just a silent sob from the younger woman.

Clara looked into her daughter's eyes as tears slowly found their way down the cheeks of the younger redhead. Donna knew. She knew her mother knew. No point in hiding it anymore.

"_YES!_" Donna yelled, throwing her hands into the air, her emotions finally getting the better of her. "I am, Mom! I'm pregnant. Just like you so impatiently have been waiting for all these years. Your daughter won't stay a childless maiden forever, so you can bring out the celebratory canons or whatever bullshit you've been planning." She drew her breath, lips quivering as she was trying to overcome the knot currently forming in her throat. "But I just found out that the man I've called _Dad_ my whole life, isn't. How am I going to bring a _new_ life into this world when I don't have a freakin' clue about my _own _reality anymore?"

Donna knew she had said way too much, way too early. She cursed herself for it. Things were going to shit already, and she had just added more fuel to the fire. _Fucking hormones. _

Clara stood there, bewilderment covering her face, shaking her head. "Donna, that's one hell of a bomb you're droppi— "

"_Are you kidding me?_" Donna interjected, her right palm facing the older woman, signaling her to not speak another word. "Really? In terms of a bomb dropping contest, I think it's safe to say you're winning by a landslide. And you know what, me being pregnant is not the topic of conversation here. But you're obviously not going to acknowledge or even talk to me about it, so I'm done. I'm leaving!"

And with that she turned around, head boiling in anger and disappointment, heading upstairs to try and prepare for a goodbye that was going to be far from pretty. What she wasn't prepared for was the look of her husband standing at the bottom of the stairs. His mouth was agape, eyes teared up and in a complete haze. Bewildered, as if he'd just got some news he didn't see coming. How long he'd been standing there, she didn't know. But there was no doubt in her mind that he had overheard at least the most important parts of that quarrel. This was _not _the way he was supposed to find out. _Fuck._

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Harvey and Jim had gone outside after dinner to clear the driveway of snow. The weather had slowly deteriorated the last couple of hours, and both men had agreed that fifteen minutes of mowing now, was time better spent than an hour the next morning. Harvey had just gotten inside after, while Jim had taken a trip to the supermarket to pick up some last minute supplies. Harvey had just taken his coat off when he heard the raised voices from the kitchen. He stood there, not moving, knowing he shouldn't eavesdrop and should just ignore the whole ordeal. This was between Donna and her mother. But his curiosity had gotten the better of him, and somehow he felt that by him standing there, knowing what was playing out in the other room, he could offer Donna some emotional support after. Little did he know that he, in a matter of minutes, would be in need of it also.

It must have taken at least five minutes after Donna ran upstairs before Harvey managed to move an inch. It felt like he'd been struck by lightning; full of energy and excitement, but at the same time completely dejected and crushed. She was pregnant. Donna, _his wife_, was pregnant, and she hadn't told him. _Why hadn't she told him? _To be fair, the subject of kids hadn't really come up yet, there was just an unspoken agreement between them. They were not actively trying, but they didn't try to avoid it either. But that didn't matter anymore. He was going to be a father, and reality suddenly hit him. _Shit._

A couple of minutes later, he found himself standing in the doorway leading to the guest room. Looking at Donna running around throwing their belongings back into their suitcases, a low cough escaped his throat to get her attention. It worked, but her hazel, red rimmed eyes left his brown ones as fast as they had found them, clearly trying to avoid the man she knew she had unintentionally hurt.

"When were you planning on telling me?" he finally asked, voice low, but she could feel there was an underlying accusation in his question.

"I don't know, Harvey," she tiredly replied, tears filling her eyes again. "At least not like this."

He knew she was hurting and this was not the time to make things worse, but he couldn't help himself. He was hurting too.

"I wish you had told me before—"

"Don't you think I know that!" she yelled louder than she had intended. Her words probably too harsh, but her whole existence as she knew it had turned upside down, and the last thing she knew was how to tend to his needs at the same time.

"I wanted it to be special, Harvey! Something to be remembered. Hell, I don't know… Maybe I would've surprised you with the pregnancy test, given you a coffee mug with the words _Worlds Greatest Dad_ or some other stupid cliché. But I didn't. I wanted to, but I never got the _time_. I only found out two days ago. I've barely digested the news myself, and now my mother has gone and ruined me telling you as well." She was angry. Harvey had never seen her this angry before.

"We'll never get that moment back no matter what I say or do. I'm sorry I ruined it, you finding out you're gonna be a dad," she continued, defeated and her voice breaking. "But I just found out I've _lost_ mine. And I. Just. Need. You—"

His arms were around her in a heartbeat, his shoulder catching her sobs as she surrendered to his embrace. Her whole world as she knew it was crashing around her and she was clinging on to the only sure thing she knew still existed. Him. He cursed himself for pushing her over the edge, for not understanding earlier that in this moment her needs were more important than his. She had put him over her for nearly fifteen years and still he managed to ignore the fact when she needed him the most. He had come a long way in understanding and talking about emotions, but he realized he had still a long way to go.

"I know, Donna! I know," he softly breathed, his mouth close to her ear as he smoothly ran his right hand over her red tresses. "I'm so, _so_ sorry. I didn't think, and that's no excuse, but I _am_ truly sorry!" he continued, his voice slowly calming her and her sobs getting fewer inbetween. Breathing her in, the smell of vanilla soothing his senses as well, clearing his mind of negative thoughts and resentment. It was going to be okay. _They_ were going to be okay. All three of them.

"And to be fair, any way you would've told me would not have been _exactly_ how you would have wanted to tell me so it doesn't really matter. The important thing is that I know." That elicited a low chuckle from Donna's throat, remembering their exchange of words not that long ago, when they had low key agreed on spending the rest of their lives together.

She lifted her head from the safe sanctuary that was the crook of his neck, and found his eyes, lovingly gazing at her. She could see his remorse and knew by the look on his face that he regretted the way he had spoken to her.

"And I can't wait to meet her," he said, eliciting a surprised look on her face.

"How do you—"

"I don't," he chuckled "But obviously you do. Well technically you don't. Not yet, anyway, it's too early for that. But I heard you say _she_ to your mom, and you're Donna. You've never been wrong about things like these before. So, I have no choice but to trust you on this."

A laugh escaped her, and her lips met his in a loving kiss. He could taste the salt on her lips, and all he wanted to do in that moment was to kiss her pain away.

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An hour later, Donna sat in the passenger seat of their rental, impatiently waiting for Harvey to carry out the last pieces of luggage. She had snuck out of the house without her parents noticing, feeling a bit guilty leaving Harvey to round everything up with her parents. But she couldn't bare to face them. Not yet. It was all still too raw. _She_ was too raw. And he had volunteered.

Harvey gave Jim a nod, thanking the older man for their hospitality. Clara stood in the doorway, her eyes fixed on the car now housing her daughter, who clearly had no intention of saying goodbye to her. As a tear silently fell down the older woman's cheek, she turned to Harvey and gave him an apologetic look. Her eyes were filled to the brim with remorse, and Harvey couldn't help but feel sad for the woman.

"Thank you for having us, Clara," he sincerely said.

"Thank you for coming, Harvey," Clara answered, her voice low and slowly breaking. "I don't know how much she's told you, but I just want you to know that I truly am sorry."

Her eyes met his, pleading for him to understand her.

"She told me enough. But Clara, I'm not the one in need of an apology."

"I know."

They stood in silence for a while, Harvey contemplating his next words.

"I don't know if it's my place to say this, but I will anyhow, because I love your daughter and right now she's hurting," Harvey said, his voice clear but without resentment. "In my experience telling the truth is way better than keeping it. I didn't tell Donna how I felt about her for so many years, because I was afraid of what it would do to our relationship, and I was afraid to lose her. What I forgot in the process was that the imagination more often than not plays a trick on reality."

Clara looked at him, confusion on her face. "I don't think I follow..."

"What I'm trying to say is," he continued, trying to sort the words in his mind. "Donna is sitting out there not knowing the full story, because no one has told her. Her imagination must be running wild, trying to make sense of the whole situation. She's rebuilding her reality with the fragments she knows, and fills in the blanks with things that may or may not be true. And to be honest I don't think that's favorable for either of you."

Clara had to admit the man had a point.

"She's scared, Clara. Because she's afraid of what you _might_ tell her. But in my experience, living in fear is always worse than facing reality."

"I know, Harvey. But I don't know if I'll ever be able to tell…" Clara paused, taking a breath. "To tell her _everything._"

Harvey gave the woman a consolidating smile while grasping her hands. "Just promise me you'll think about it."

"I will," she replied, a warm smile on her face. "And congratulations by the way. With the baby. I'm thrilled, I really am."

Harvey gave the woman a soft smile as he thanked her.

"How long have you known?" she continued.

A low chuckle escaped him, not really knowing how to answer her question.

"About as long as you have," he answered, deciding the truth was the best option.

Clara's eyes flickered as it dawned on her what his words meant. "Oh..."

"Yeah…"

"I'm sorry about that."

"I know."

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It was late when they finally arrived at her door. They had decided to not sell their apartments when moving to the west coast, seeing as they didn't really need to. They were both loaded, and to be honest they wanted to keep their options open in case Seattle didn't work out. Both places were good financial investments. Harvey rented out his place to keep some cash flow, while they decided to keep Donna's as a home away from home. Or rather a home _back home_. They agreed hers carried more sentimental value, as all the milestones in their relationship had taken place there, and they weren't ready to let go just yet. The move to Seattle was a big enough change for now. It was nice to still have that sense of familiarity whenever they decided to come back to New York for a visit.

The drive from Cortland had been a silent affair, no words exchanged between the pair. Their hands intertwined the whole trip, and it was all the communication they needed. _That_ was enough.

They hadn't really talked about _it_ the rest of the week either, not even the pregnancy. Both had been busy enjoying New York, Donna too eager to ignore and forget. Harvey on the other hand knew Donna was in full denial mode, but he was determined to give her time and space to deal with things in her own time. She had given him nearly fifteen years to figure himself out. A week was the least he could give her. She'd talk when she was ready.

They enjoyed their much needed alone time, being just them, except for Louis and Sheila's Chrismukkah party. It was a welcome diversion, and nice to hang out with old friends. But they'd been evasive when the subject of _them _came up. The truth they told being there was "nothing new to tell," and they were "still adjusting to the slower pace of the west coast".

Thursday evening, they lay tiredly on the couch after a long day walking through the streets of the city. After flipping through all the channels, they decided on a Star Trek rerun, while waiting for their food delivery. Donna wanted "Shitty Thai". Harvey hadn't been opposed, realizing he was getting more sentimental than he cared to admit. The thought of going out for dinner hadn't appealed to either of them, so they decided to stay in for the evening and just relax in each others company.

The doorbell rang as Captain Kirk was about to deliver one of his most famous quotes, so Donna volunteered to get the door. As she opened it, her eyes didn't land on a delivery guy with a bag full of Pad Thai and egg rolls, but a fatigued redheaded woman 30 years her senior. She was looking into the teary, swollen eyes of her mother. She was looking at Clara Paulsen.


	3. How to read people

_*WARNING: This chapter contains topics that may be triggering to some. No explicit content, but readers caution advised*_

_AN: This chapter was really hard for me to write. I hope it reads as close to what made sense in my head when the idea came to me. It may not be going where everyone expected or wanted it to, but please give it a shot. There's an AN at the end as well, where I explain my thoughts a bit more. And again; big thanks to beta queens AlternateShadesofBlue and spicysuits! I'm so grateful 3 _

_Thank you for reading!_

_K_

Part three - How to read people

_People are complicated. People have secrets. It doesn't make them good people or bad people._

_David Zayas_

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Donna blinked, not fully realizing the fact her mother, _her mother_, was standing in the hallway outside her apartment. She could count on one hand the times her mother had come to visit, _The Godawful Dinner Party _one of them. The _how_ was not so hard to understand, the _why, _on the other hand, had yet to dawn on her.

"Hi," Clara said, voice low and clearly nervous.

"Hi, Mom," Donna sighed, not knowing how to deal with the situation at hand. "What are you doing here?"

"Can I come in?"

"I don't know if we have anyth–"

"Please, Donna," she replied. "I'm ready to tell you the truth. If you still want me to, that is."

Her mother was nervous, her whole being emanating an uneasiness Donna had never witnessed before. Clara had stepped way out of her comfort zone to be here, something Donna couldn't ignore. So she decided to give her the benefit of the doubt and let her in.

.

.

.

Harvey's eyes were glued to the television, completely dazed by William Shatner's performance, even though he'd seen it about a million times before. The loud noises from his overly hungry stomach brought him back to his surroundings, suddenly remembering Donna had gone to fetch the food, and it dawned on him that it had taken longer than normal.

"Hey, Donna, did you get lost or something, I'm starving!" he shouted, eyes still fixed on the screen in front of him.

When she didn't answer he got mildly worried, so he decided to get up from the couch and go see if everything was okay. As he turned around he was met by not only one, but two redheads. The silence between them pressing, Donna's eyes pleading him to say something to relieve the awkwardness filling the room.

"Hey, Clara," he said, not able to hide his surprise. "Good to see you! Uhm… What–"

"What am I doing here?" She eyed him, a soft smile finding its way across her face. "I'm following your advice, Harvey."

He gulped, feeling Donna's questioning look biting away at him. Avoiding her, he nodded at the older woman and replied; "Well, I'll leave you to it then."

He was about to leave the room when Clara stopped him with a hand to his arm.. "I was actually hoping I could talk to the both of you. I think what I'm about to tell you is something you both deserve to hear first hand," she said, her voice unsteady but determined.

Harvey found the hazel orbs of his other half, both equally confused, but silently agreeing that they should hear the woman out. She came all this way, and they could at least take the time to listen, not fully knowing what they were venturing into.

.

.

.

Donna sat down on the couch, Harvey beside her, while Clara had found one of the chairs on the opposite side of the table. The thai food had been delivered, and was now getting cold on the kitchen counter. They decided it could wait, heating it up later, neither Donna or Harvey really hungry anymore considering how the evening was turning out. Both women sat with a cup of tea in their hands, Donna waiting for her mother to start talking.

"So..." Donna started, trying to hide how nervous she was actually feeling.

"I don't really know where to start," Clara said.

"The beginning is usually a good place..." Donna couldn't hide her irritation, rolling her eyes at her mother.

Harvey took Donna's hand, squeezing it, signaling her to give her mother some slack. Her mother had come here, hat in hand, willing to talk to them. The last thing she needed was Donna being more dismissive than she already was. Donna squeezed back, telling Harvey she got the message.

"Well," Clara swallowed. "I do remember him. The guy in the photo, I mean. Peter. Peter Branagh. He and I were, what should I call it… High School sweethearts. Well at least for some time."

Donna had figured as much, but still things didn't make sense in her mind just yet.

"We got together halfway through senior year, after he had shown interest in me for some time. I was flattered. He was an attractive guy, and I was surprised he even knew who I was," Clara continued. "He knew how to read people, what made people tick, so he knew he'd get my attention and affection by just giving me the time of day. Things were going well for a while, but after a couple of months he started to push the topic of us sleeping together. I hadn't really thought too much about it, and to be completely honest, I wasn't ready. I tried to tell him that, and in the beginning he seemed fine with it."

Donna could see her mother was struggling, these memories had clearly been buried deep, and digging them up again was not an easy task for Clara.

"But after some time," Clara said, "he started getting more impatient about it, questioning if I really loved him since I denied him us being together in that way. He even started to tease me about it, calling me a prude in front of his friends. He even went so far as to saying I wasn't _wife material_ since I wasn't willing to _fulfill my duties_, as he put it."

Donna and Harvey looked at Clara, both faces filled with resentment towards the guy.

"What a douche!" Harvey spit out.

"Yeah, well," Clara replied, "love is blind, I guess."

Donna shook her head, not buying her mother's last words. "Did you really love him though?" she challenged.

Clara eyed her daughter, not surprised by her intuition. "Probably not, I thought I did, but after some time I figured out I deserved better. So I broke it off."

"Good for you!" Harvey interjected, pissed at the guy for treating his mother-in-law that way. What he had yet to learn was that this was only the beginning.

"Well, I wish that was the end of it but it wasn't," Clara continued. "He got furious, he was so angry at me for dumping him. He showed up at my doorstep in the middle of the night, pleading me to take him back, throwing stones at my window when I refused. I even suspect he scratched our car with his keys just to get back at me."

Donna was listening intently, but she had still not gotten any answers to the questions gnawing at her mind. "Okay, mom," she said, getting more impatient by the second. "You had a sad high school love story, but what I'm not understanding is how that led to— "

"I'm getting there, Donna!" Clara interjected, her voice shivering, drawing a breath mustering all the strength she needed to continue her story. "Time went by, and he finally started to lose interest. He'd probably gone on to the next girl or something. Graduation came up, summer went by and I started working at a local hair salon. All thoughts of Peter Branagh gone, he'd moved across the country and started college somewhere. It was a chapter of my life I decided to just let go of, and that was fine. A couple of months later I met your father… uhm, I met Jim. He was the complete opposite of Peter. Kind, caring and loved me for who I was, not for what I could or couldn't offer him. We got married the next summer, me already five months pregnant with your sister, Denise."

The last part of the story, Donna was familiar with, but she was keen to know what came after.

"When Denise was two, we decided it was time to try for another baby. But it took some time, years even, without results. Eventually I found out I had endometriosis. Suddenly it all made sense, you know, why I had such severe period cramps. There was actually a reason. And although it doesn't make you infertile— "

"—it can decrease your chances of getting pregnant," Donna finished, knowing all too well what her mother was talking about. Reminded of what was in store for her and Harvey, she silently counted her blessings.

"Time went by, but nothing happened, so we just stopped trying. IVF had yet to become a common procedure, I don't even think there'd ever been a successful outcome at that time. Me and Jim both wanted another baby, but we came to terms with the fact that it wasn't meant to be," Clara continued, her voice reflecting the pain her heart felt about that admission.

"A couple of years later, in the spring of '77, an old classmate from high school moved back to Cortland after years living abroad. He wanted to gather as many of us as he could for a _welcome back_ party. I thought it'd be nice to show up and get updated on how things were going with the people I spent the better part of my teens with. What didn't cross my mind was the fact that Peter might come as well. And he did," Clara said, eyes flickering between Harvey and Donna, wondering if they understood where this was going.

"He came up to me that night, and said he actually wanted to apologize for how things ended between us back then. I must say I was quite surprised. It felt so out of character for him, so far away from the Peter I knew back in high school. But I guess I thought he'd grown up as well, learned a thing or two about life since I last saw him. So I accepted his apology. And that was that."

Clara drew a deep breath, bracing herself for what was coming next. She knew it would be difficult for her to say it, but she was even more afraid of the impact it would have on the woman sitting next to her. Donna sensed the shift in her mother, and clenched Harveys hand, silently asking him to be the pillar of support she knew she would need in the moments to come.

"The evening went on, and I was having a good time hanging out with my old friends, even Peter. About 1:00 in the morning I decided it was time to get a cab back home. Peter offered to drive me, as my house was on the way. A flicker of doubt crossed my mind, but I ignored it, and I gratefully accepted his offer. As I came to learn, that was one of the most pivotal decisions I've made in my life." Clara's voice was low, her eyes fixed on the floor. Both Harvey and Donna could see the older woman playing the movie in her mind, the pictures on replay, vivid as if it happened yesterday.

"On our way home, Peter suddenly took a detour, saying it was such a beautiful night to see the stars. I didn't think much of it, just agreed that the sky was clear and the Big Dipper was indeed shining bright that night. He made a stop at some viewpoint overlooking Cortland, and when I looked over at him to ask why, his beautiful blue eyes had turned black as coal." Clara swallowed, clearly struggling now, as her eyes were filling up.

"I knew then that I'd made a mistake getting into the car with him. I asked kindly if he could drive me home, since it was getting late, but he just shook his head. He told me he'd never stopped thinking about what we could've had, and that he wanted to _collect his prize,_ seeing as _I owed him_."

An earth shattering silence filled the room, as both Donna and Harvey realized where the story was going.

"Mom…" Donna croaked, tears threatening to spill and her voice too broken to utter another word.

"Donna... just let me finish," Clara replied, mustering all the strength she could to continue.

Donna sniffed, her thumb wiping away the tear that had found its way down her cheek.

"I'm not going to go into the details. It's just too..." Clara cried. "He raped me in that car that night. Peter Branagh _raped_ me, and this is the first time I've said those words aloud since I told Jim the morning after it happened."

Donna stood up from the couch, and started to wander aimlessly around the room. Anger, hurt, guilt. She felt everything and absolutely nothing at the same time. She couldn't sit still anymore, her mother's words hitting her in a way she never could've imagined. Maybe the best thing would be to sit back down again, but walking around in her apartment gave her at least something to focus on, afraid that if she stopped, her knees would buckle under her.

"I can't…" Donna cried, her hands fanning the air in front of her face as to dry the tears away. it didn't work, so she dug her face into her palms and screamed. "_This is too much!_"

Harvey contemplated getting up to console her, but she gave him a declining look and waved him off. She needed space. Both emotionally and physically.

"I know, Donna," Clara sniffed, drying her own tears. "I know. But I need to tell the full story. _You_ need to hear the full story."

Donna looked up again, finding her mother's eyes, silently begging her to stop. But she knew it was pointless. Her mother was right, there was no point in getting this far and not crossing the finish line, no matter how painful the home stretch.

"I know," Donna croaked, "sorry." She sat back down, her hand finding Harvey's comforting one.

"You don't need to be sorry, Donna! I know this is a lot to take in. I just need the chance to finish what I started when I came here," Clara continued, getting an affirmative nod from her daughter.

"After telling Jim," Clara said, "I tried to put it out of my mind. I really didn't want to acknowledge what had happened, I just wanted to forget. Turns out it's kind of hard to forget when you six weeks later realize you're pregnant. And before you ask, It couldn't have been Jim's. He'd been ill for some time so we hadn't… you know—"

"Yeah, Mom, I get it…" Donna stopped her, in no need for her mother to elaborate.

"I just couldn't believe that fate could be so cruel, denying us a child for so many years, and then making me get pregnant the _one_ time I really didn't want for it to happen. I guess fate didn't care about cruelty."

Donna drew her breath, trying to decide if she could face the answer to her next question. "If fate was so cruel, Mom, why… Why did you decide to keep me?" she asked, not daring to face her mother's reaction.

"It wasn't an easy decision, trust me. I thought about abortion. Roe vs. Wade had just gone through a couple of years prior, and there was still a lot of stigma. Initially I wanted one, but ultimately I just couldn't make myself do it. We had tried for so many years to get pregnant, and I guess I thought I could either see this unfortunate event as a curse, or I could choose to embrace it as a blessing," Clara said. "So I did the latter."

Donna was still struggling to cope with the facts that were presented to her. "What about Da–... uhm… What about Jim? What did he think?" Donna asked, not knowing what to make of the situation.

"He's still your dad, Donna. Always has been, and always will be. He was from the moment he heard. He told me that night that he'd support me no matter my choice. But we still wanted another baby, and if I wanted you, he wanted you too, regardless of how we got there. We'd been given an opportunity, and why not embrace it?"

Donna was floored. The man she'd known as her father had put his own pride aside and chosen to love her anyway. She couldn't find the right words for that information right now, so she shifted the focus.

"Does Denise know?" she asked, the thought suddenly occurring to explain why her sister always had a plank in the eye when it came to her.

"No," Clara replied. "She doesn't. I think she's always suspected something, but I've never told her, no."

"Wow, Mom. I mean… I… I don't really know what to say," Donna sobbed. "This is just… a lot"

"You don't have to say anything, Donna," the older woman answered. "I just want you to know. I _need_ you to know, that no matter what happened back then, the unconditional and inexhaustible love your father and I have for you, will never change. Don't you _ever _forget that." Claras voice was trembling as she reached for her daughter's hand.

"I'll try," she said honestly, another question burning in the forefront of her mind, not knowing if she dared ask it or not. But she had to know. "Does he... Does he know about me?" she asked, still not daring to face her mother.

"No, he didn't," Clara replied.

"Didn't?"

"He passed away a couple of years ago. Liver failure, apparently, too good of friends with his liquor. One of his friends found him in his bed one morning, he died while he was sleeping, alone."

"So, no wife or kids?"

"No, he became a lonesome wolf in his later days."

"Right..." Donna said, not yet knowing if she was disappointed or relieved.

"Probably for the best," Clara voiced, still a flicker of doubt passing her eyes.

"Probably…" Donna replied, silence lingering between the three.

Donna finally looked up and met her mother's eyes, her heart filled with sorrow for the woman she so deeply loved and cherished. Even though she'd been burdened with a secret so grave, so quintessential for her entire existence, she couldn't help feeling an enormous amount of gratefulness and pride towards her mother. The strength Clara had shown in coming here and telling her story, but most of all, loving Donna despite her being a constant reminder of the darkest and most painful experience her mother had ever endured. So she rose from the couch, and embraced her mother with all the strength she could muster, afraid that if she let go, her world would evaporate around her.

"Thank you, mom. For everything," Donna croaked, voice broken and heart shattered. "And I'm so, so sorry."

Clara drew back, finding her daughter's eyes. She placed her daughters face between her palms as she wiped a tear away from the younger woman's freckled cheek. "I know, Donna. I know."

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.

.

It was later in the evening, when Harvey entered their bedroom. He had just seen Clara off. They'd offered her to stay over, but she declined as she'd already booked and paid for a hotel room for the night.

Donna was sitting on her side of the bed, lost in thought, when Harvey sat down beside her. She was still in shock, and would probably be for a while. Her body frozen, boiling, and disappearing all at once.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" he asked, knowing he was treading deep water.

"Too much… and absolutely nothing. All at the same time," she replied, her eyes searching for some comfort in his.

"That's understandable. Want to share?" he asked softly, trying not to push her, but still filled with a need to know what was going on in her mind.

She was still looking at him, but he saw her mind drift away as if she was suddenly taken by a wave, slowly drifting out at sea. She was clearly struggling to find her words or where to start, so he decided to take a chance and help her along.

"You have that, don't you?" he began, her attention back at him. "That endo… uhm…"

"Endometriosis?" she helped him out. "Yeah. I do."

"So you getting pregnant—"

"Wasn't something I was expecting at all. No," she said, finishing the thought he had started. "I mean, I guess some part of me always hoped it was in the cards for me, someday. With the right person. But at the same time I'd found peace with the fact that it might never happen. I was okay with that," she said, earnesty in her voice, but Harvey couldn't help but feel he'd heard a flicker of sorrow as well.

"And then you showed up at my door, things finally right between us, suddenly that longing slowly crept its way back into my consciousness," she confessed, reaching for his hand but her eyes were deflecting his. "But I didn't want to make a big deal out of it, I was more than happy with us just being _us_. That's all I'd ever wanted." She squeezed his hand, needing him to understand that those words were the truth.

"To be honest, I wasn't really sure how you felt about it, so I chose not to bring it up," she continued. "And when we, consciously or not, stopped using any protection, I figured you weren't completely opposed to the idea. I felt we just had this silent agreement that whatever happens, happens. But I still didn't want to get your hopes up or anything. Maybe I didn't want to get _my own_ hopes up… I don't know. By ignoring it, it wouldn't become an issue, and that was comfortable somehow. Cowardly, yes, but still comfortable. Ignorance is bliss, I guess."

"I wish you'd told me."

"I know," she said, "It just felt a bit _too_ personal, too soon. I know we're supposed to share everything. But _this_, you and me together, is still new. I'm still adjusting. We have spent fifteen years sharing _almost _everything. That last part is still, I don't know… well guarded."

"I get it." And he did. They'd grown accustomed to a certain rhythm between them throughout the years. They knew what things they could share with each other, and what parts of their life they kept private, even between them. And it would take time to get used to opening up, and sharing the innermost parts of themselves. He'd also kept something from her.

"I'm not, you know…" he said, a soft smile covering his features. "Opposed to this whole thing."

They locked eyes, hers filled with water, the intensity of what his words meant a bit too much for her, so she tried to humor her way out of getting too emotional.

"Good," she sniffled. "Because I don't think we can go back on this." A chuckle escaped her throat as she waved her hand at her stomach, finding his eyes for some validation. "Well we can, if you want to. But…"

"I don't want to go back," he assured her. "I want this. I would be lying if I told you it doesn't scare the shit outta me. I mean, neither of us have the greatest examples to follow, but you know people, you have great intuition so you're gonna be a natural at this parenting thing. And that gives me peace and confidence, even though I'll have no clue as to what the hell _I'm_ doing." He laughed, still expecting more of a response from her.

"Good." Her eyes had gone wandering the corners of her mind again.

"What?" he asked, confused as to her sudden change of presence.

She swallowed away the knot in her throat, as she drew a heavy breath. "It's just… I got that from _him_, you know. Me knowing how to read people, my intuition. I've always considered that one of my biggest strengths, but now—"

"Donna..." he grabbed her hand, making her look at him, not continuing before he knew he had her full attention. This was too important. She needed to hear this, to _understand_ this. "It still is your greatest strength. And though you might've gotten those traits from him, it doesn't make you _anything_ like him. At all. He chose to deceive people for his own benefit. You, on the other hand, have used your strengths to help people out, or better a situation, because you care. So don't you ever tell yourself any different! You're the same _beautiful_ woman I fell in love with all those years ago. Inside and out. This doesn't change that. And even though your history may have changed, your present hasn't. I'm still here, and I'm not going anywhere. Your mom isn't going anywhere and neither is your dad."

She was crying now. She knew he was telling it as it was, and she knew it was the truth. She just needed to hear it, be reminded of it and to find her peace with it. But it was going to take some time. A lot of time. And she needed them to give it to her.

.

.

.

Harvey was sipping at his glass of Macallan, when he saw the older man enter through the doors of The Plaza. He'd asked Jim if they could meet up before he and Donna returned back to Seattle. Jim looked a bit bewildered in Harvey's opinion, as the man approached him.

"Harvey," Jim said, confusion filling his voice.

"Hi, James," Harvey replied. "Good to see you again!"

The men shook hands, and sat down in the leather chairs opposite each other, Harvey ordering the older man his beverage of choice.

"To be honest I was a bit surprised when you reached out," Jim said, his brow furrowed. "How is she?"

Harvey wasn't sure how to answer that without somehow hurting the man. "To be honest?

Not good. She's trying to deal with everything, but right now she is more existing than living."

Harvey's words tumbled down at the older man like a ton of bricks. Jim wasn't surprised, he'd expected as much, but hearing it said aloud hit differently.

"I don't know what to say," the older man replied. "I don't know what to do when she won't talk to me. I feel completely helpless here."

Harvey couldn't help but feel sorry for the man. Even though he'd been an accomplice in keeping the secret from Donna, his intentions had been good as he never wanted to hurt her.

"She just needs time. Time to digest and come to terms with everything. And find her place in this new reality which has changed so drastically for her, but stayed the same for everyone else."

Jim nodded, the younger man's words resonating in his ears. "I understand," he said, a shiver in his voice. "Just... please tell her I still love her, that I love _my daughter_. Of all the changes she's experiencing, please tell her _that_ hasn't changed."

"I will," Harvey replied.

"Thank you."

They sat in silence for a while, finishing their drinks. Jim was about to get up from his chair, but Harvey stopped him.

"Before you go, I just want to thank you too," Harvey said, sincerity in his voice.

"For what?" Jim wondered.

Harvey swallowed, knowing his next words wouldn't be easy to voice, but they needed to be said.

"For loving her," Harvey continued. "As your own. And raising her, caring for her so she could grow to become the woman she is today. Being her dad, even though I can imagine it sometimes must've hurt like shit," he said, eyes starting to pool. "But most of all," Harvey croaked, "I want to thank you for _keeping_ her."

His eyes were now full of tears, lips quivering as he searched for his next words. "I have no clue what I'd do without her, what man I'd be today if it wasn't for her. I owe her so much, and I know I'll never be able to pay her back for all she's given me throughout the years. But in realizing that, I also realized _you _have a big part in that. That decision must've been so _goddamn_ difficult, I can't even imagine. Hell... I don't think I'd be able to do it."

Harvey wiped a tear from his cheek, focusing on a spot in front of him as he collected himself for his conclusion. "And though we haven't always seen eye to eye on things relating your daughter, if I can't see the truth about your importance in her life, than what the hell am I doing…"

His eyes met Jim's, the older man clearly moved by his confession. They'd had their ups and downs during the years, more often than not resenting the other. But in this moment in time it had never been clearer to either of them, that the man sitting on the opposite side of the table in the lobby of this New York hotel, truly and unconditionally _loved_ Donna Roberta Paulsen.

_FIN._

_AN: Thank you so much for giving this fic and my writing a shot! I'm truly grateful! My goal with this story was to show that people are more complex than they may appear to be. Especially Jim Paulsen (who I hate on the show) is such an easy character to just "throw under the bus" because we only see the faulty side of him. So I wanted to redeem him in a way. You can hate me for it, haha, but trust me it was NOT easy doing it! And though the plot may seem a bit far fetched, these things do happen. And I wanted to explore Donna's backstory. We know so much about Harvey, she deserves some attention as well. I hope you enjoyed it, please let me know what you think!_


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